


Stolen Moments

by lindoreda



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, The Reaper's Curse, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindoreda/pseuds/lindoreda
Summary: With the final confrontation looming, Velvet finds that she doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Luckily, Rokurou has an idea, and it just might help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Coming out of retirement again because lord help me I would die for these two. More may or may not appear later. Enjoy!

As hideouts went, Merchio was a lot more scenic than Titania, and had none of the baggage. There was plenty of space for everyone to go their own way without bothering anyone, and the baths were the kind of luxury they had gone too long without. It might be cold and out of the way, but that also meant that the Abbey couldn’t sneak up on them here. As far as Velvet was concerned, she really didn’t need anything else.

The only thing she didn’t like was the quiet. The way the wind would howl through the valley and then stop without warning, leaving a heavy, oppressive silence in it’s wake. Sometimes, in that silence, she could hear the faint echoes of the memories that had set her on this path. Bad enough that she saw them in dreams, and that they drove her actions when waking.

Once, Velvet had been more comfortable with the idea of being alone, with just her thoughts for company, fueling her need for revenge. Now? She couldn’t just blindly push forward anymore. Not with Phi’s life on the line. But waiting around wouldn’t accomplish anything either.

Yet somehow, waiting was what she found herself doing, sitting on the edge of her bed at the inn, staring out at the snowy tundra. Kamoana had heard some kind of legend about a cave in the ice fields, and she couldn’t go alone, but in the end, nearly everyone except Velvet and Rokurou, who no one had been able to find in time, had gone on the expedition. Knowing that she still scared Kamoana, Velvet had declined, but with nothing but the chill wind and her thoughts, she had started to regret that decision. There would have been monsters to fight out there, which would have at least been distracting.

Instead, she had taken a long bath, brushed her hair, and found herself at loose ends, sitting on her bed in her nightshirt long before she felt tired. How was she supposed to relax, after so much time spent driving forward single-mindedly?

“Oh good, you’re here.”

Velvet nearly jumped at the sound of Rokurou’s voice. Normally, she would have smelled or heard his approach first with her heightened daemon senses. Had she just been too lost in thought? Or, worse yet, was she so used to his scent and gait that she didn’t even notice it anymore? If it had been anyone else but Rokurou, her own softness would have concerned her. And Rokurou, she was almost convinced, would follow her into Innominat’s mouth if need be. All supposedly in the name of a debt.

It had been weeks since she believed that. What exactly he wanted now, especially with Shigure dead, was less certain.

“Where else would I be?” She tried to say it with a smile, instead of instinctively going on the defense. But her smiles turned into cold knives all too easily.

“Gone fighting Artorius and Innominat,” Rokurou said, as if it were obvious. Then again, maybe it was. “But if you’re here, I probably didn’t miss the big fight.” He rubbed the back of his head, a familiar, embarrassed gesture, and grinned. 

“Or maybe I’m the only one who made it back alive,” Velvet said, the joke just coming out on its own. That was happening more often lately. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. Or if it would make a difference in the end.

“I wasn’t gone that long,” Rokurou protested, though hints of his grin remained. “Still, it’s been a while since it was just the two of us, hasn’t it?”

“Since our first trip to Hellawes,” Velvet agreed after a moment of thinking back. The memory came easily, despite how long it had been. It was easy to remember: she’d been alone before that, and he hadn’t left her side since. “When Magilou ditched us for a warm tavern.”

“And got arrested for her trouble.” Rokurou laughed. “Not that I can blame her. But-” He hesitated, his visible eye watching her carefully. “Did you want to be alone? I didn’t mean to barge in.”

Normally, she might have said he could stay or go, and it wouldn’t bother her either way. But that wouldn’t have been true. She didn’t want to be alone. And Rokurou wouldn’t judge her for that. He probably wouldn’t judge her for anything.

“You don’t have to go. This place is too quiet.” Velvet repressed a grimace. That wasn’t very welcoming, yet it managed to be too honest at the same time.

But Rokurou didn’t comment, instead sitting next to her on the bed, though with a healthy distance between them. For all that he insisted that he was a daemon and human conventions didn’t mean anything to him anymore, Rokurou was always respectful of her boundaries. He met her where she was.

Without thinking, Velvet said, “You don’t have to sit so far away. Afraid I’ll devour you?” She knew he wasn’t. But it had become so easy to think of herself in those terms: a terrifying, bloodthirsty therion, who hurt everyone and everything she touched.

Rokurou laughed again. “I’ve marinated in enough shochu that you might actually get drunk if you did that.” But he scooted closer.

Velvet raised an eyebrow. “You think I could get drunk if someone I devoured had drunk enough?”

“Well, the way I see it, your diet is basically malevolence, right? But carnivores can eat vegetables if they’re mixed in with meat, so maybe you can eat and enjoy other things if they’re full of malevolence too,” he explained, suddenly animated. It reminded her of their first meeting in Titania. Was that the only time he’d ever touched her?

Why had she thought of that? Was it because she was in her nightshirt? But that made little sense. Parts of her were actually more covered like this than they normally were.

Velvet’s eyebrow went higher. “It sounds like you’ve been talking to Eizen.”

“Actually, it was Magilou’s idea. But it does interest me,” Rokurou admitted.

“Why?” It didn’t make any sense to her. What interested Rokurou was swords, swordsmanship, and occasionally, insects. They’d compared the changes to their bodies early on, but the subject was still painful for her, while he seemed to consider his state an improvement, so they hadn’t talked about it again. But then, he could still get drunk.

Rokurou’s expression grew serious, and she caught a glimpse of his daemon eye under his hair. “Because more than anything else, that’s what keeps you from believing me when I say you’re human.”

Velvet was too taken aback to stop her defenses from coming back up. “Says the man who deflects everything with ‘a daemon like me wouldn’t understand,’” she shot back. That had never made sense either. He understood better than anyone else. But then why was he pushing this?

Surprise flashed across his face, before a wry smile replaced it. “I’m probably the only one who thought that was working.”

“It was none of my business, so I left it alone.” She shot him a look that she hoped conveyed the obvious question: ‘why didn’t you do the same?’

Rokurou sighed. “The reason you seem so human to me isn’t just because of how intensely you feel everything,” he admitted. “You didn’t become a daemon because of your own actions, or your own feelings, like I did. You were made into one by Artorius and Innominat. You don’t like it, and that’s understandable. But it’s my own fault I became a daemon.”

Realization dawned on her. “You lied to us about why it happened, at first,” Velvet remembered.

“Daemons like me can still feel shame, apparently. And a lot of other things. I’m comfortable like this. I’m stronger, for one. If I let regret or shame in, why did I bother becoming a daemon? They’re no use in a fight.” He said it all so matter-of-factly, and she almost envied him that ability.

No, she did envy him. Really, Artorius had not been wrong when he’d said that her emotions ran too hot.

“Neither is being human,” Velvet pointed out, bringing the conversation back around to their original subject.

“No,” Rokurou agreed. “But I wouldn’t have to worry about whether a human could enjoy being kissed. That’s not fair to you, though.”

Velvet found in that moment that a full, hot blush was still something her face could do. And that a few silly words, the likes of which had never been directed at her for long, could still completely shut down her brain. She must have misunderstood. Rokurou, wanting to kiss her? She was-

But it wasn’t as if Rokurou didn’t know what she was. That was the point. He knew, and wanted to anyway? And held back because he wasn’t sure that she could enjoy it without being able to taste? The thought only made her blush hotter. But maybe she was getting ahead of herself.

She trusted Rokurou. More than that, in her present state, it was hard to say. And trust was more than she’d thought she could give again. Ever again.

Rokurou was watching her still, patient as ever, his expression giving away nothing, so Velvet mustered a response.

“That was an abrupt subject change,” she said, not fully able to look him in the eye. Her face was still far too hot.

She expected him to tease her. She’d turned the color of her shirt, fallen silent, and had tried to change the subject again. He’d found a chink in her armor. It stood to reason that he’d try to exploit it. But he didn’t.

“Sorry about that. “ He rubbed the back of his head. “I guess that was pretty clumsy. Forget it happened. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He stood, as if to leave, and Velvet was struck with the need to make him stay. She could trust him. She did trust him. And he wouldn’t have started on a topic like that if he was only curious.

“I can’t forget it,” she said, and he froze in place. “It was the first time I thought about that kind of thing since becoming a therion.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Rokurou admitted, though his shoulders relaxed.

“Stay,” Velvet said, “and find out.” There might be nothing but death waiting for her at the end of her journey. She might be inexperienced, and unsure. She could still remember the feeling of her arm being cut off, and the much newer stab wound Artorius had inflicted. But she trusted Rokurou. And if she was honest, the fact that he could see her as she was, knowing the full extent of her hurt and her damage, and still could think of her that way, meant more than she could process right now.

And if she asked why, when most people would have run screaming by now, or had their image of her irrevocably changed, she was certain he would say that he was a daemon, and daemons weren’t concerned about things like that.

Rokurou stayed, returning to the bed. He watched her, his expression calm. But she could see the tension in his muscles, and something about his scent had changed.

Velvet moved closer to him, bracing one hand on the bed. “I’m warning you. Even as a human, I’ve never been kissed before. I have no idea what I’m doing.” The words came out gruffer than she wanted, but the surprised pleasure that flickered in Rokurou’s eye told her that he didn’t care. More likely, he hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m honored.” His tone was light, leaving it up to her whether to take him seriously or not. But his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her ear, down the column of her neck where they settled behind her head, couldn’t be misunderstood. His touch was slow, almost cautious. A reminder that she could still pull away, and stop this at any moment. 

But Velvet couldn’t remember the last time a touch had been anything other than an attempt to wound her. It was startling, but nicer than she had remembered. She didn’t want to pull away. And she could tell by the malevolence in the air that Rokurou didn’t want to stop either. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she could feel the malevolence changing from the rage both of them carried around to something sweeter and thicker, adding to the heat kindling in her blood.

Velvet parted her lips, searching for something to say that would convince him to stop waiting and kiss her already. But as she did, Rokurou’s visible pupil slitted, and he closed the remaining distance with surprising speed.

Their lips had only to touch for Velvet to know that even with the malevolence Rokurou naturally produced, she still couldn’t taste anything. But her disappointment lasted only until Rokurou began to move again, their lips sliding against each other as she learned the rhythm, and the sensation shot through her like lightning. Then the smell of him filled her nose, with an intensity that her human nose never would have come close to. Velvet had never been drunk, and now, likely never would be, but intoxicating seemed like the only way to describe the mix of sensations.

Velvet had never understood Niko and her veterinarian. Oh, they’d read overblown princess stories together, and swooned at the appropriate times, but family had been her whole life, until it wasn’t. And then she had been too wounded and angry to think of anything else. Rokurou’s kisses couldn’t fix that, but they explained some things. And it was easy enough to believe that she could lose herself in this. How long had it been since a pleasant feeling had lasted more than a few seconds?

All too soon, Rokurou pulled back, though not very far, and his breathing was ragged.

“So? Any luck?”

It took Velvet’s fogged brain a moment to catch up, but when it did, she shook her head. “No taste. Malevolence doesn’t seem to make a difference. But-” She paused, warmth flooding her face again, and saw Rokurou stop in the middle of wilting. “Smell and feel seem to… compensate.”

“Oh?” There was an almost unearthly light in Rokurou’s visible eye.

“So you didn’t have to stop.”

He was on her again in an instant, his fingers tightening in her hair. His kisses were faster this time, more eager. Hungry, Velvet thought with an upward quirk of her lips as she responded in kind. For her, as she was, not for what others saw or imagined. It made her feel almost human again, even if the tongue that slid wetly against her’s had no taste. The feeling alone was enough to thicken her blood, and have her moving closer, almost into his lap.

It made her want to do more than just respond to him, running a hand hesitantly up his arm. Disappointment burned in her when she found herself stymied by his armor; she couldn’t feel any of the definition that she knew was there. She didn’t know the rules of this encounter, and at the moment, she was too proud to point that out. Besides, here she was in her nightshirt, and he had at least three layers on. She didn’t know how far this was going to go, but she definitely wasn’t ready to stop.

Frustrated, Velvet murmured, “Lose the armor,” against Rokurou’s mouth.

A low sound came from the back of Rokurou’s throat, almost a purr. The sound sent a thrill through her. “Yes ma’am. How naked am I getting?”

Velvet felt a blush rising on her cheeks again, but fought through it. “Leave your kimono on.” If he could stop kissing her long enough to do it.

Rokurou grinned into her mouth before pulling away. “You realize I have to take everything else off first?”

Velvet raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘get on with it.’ “Lock the door too,” she added after a moment’s consideration, turning her back on him. If she was ready for a show, she wouldn’t have bothered asking for the kimono. Though his nightly training sessions meant that she had seen a lot already.

The click of the lock came first, followed by the clunk of armor hitting the floor, and the rustle of fabric. If anything, hearing Rokurou undress without seeing only heightened Velvet’s agitation. Was she really doing this? What if-

No. Rokurou had never asked for more than she was willing to give. Wherever or whenever her boundaries made themselves known, he’d respect them. And wanting his touch made her feel more alive, more human than she had in so long. That was Rokurou’s power, strange as it might seem for a yaksha.

She was startled out of her thoughts by Rokurou’s arms wrapping around her from behind, and she tensed instinctively before recognizing him and relaxing. She could feel the muscles of his arms and chest, his warmth surrounding her with only thin fabric in the way. His hot breath tickled the back of her neck, and he nuzzled her ear with his nose, the feeling startling a sound out of her.

“Oh, that was cute,” Rokurou murmured, and she could hear the smile in his voice, his lips brushing against her neck. “Do that again.”

“You have to earn it,” Velvet replied, her voice coming out higher than normal.

“That sounds like a challenge.” If they’d been facing each other, Velvet knew she would have seen a gleam in his visible eye. 

“I’m sure you can manage. I’m getting the impression that you’ve been thinking of doing this for a while. I wonder how long.” He’d never given her any indication before now. Or had she just been too far into her own head to notice? That was actually pretty likely.

“I don’t think I should say,” Rokurou admitted, trailing kisses down her neck. His fingers lightly stroked her sides, never straying too high or too low. It didn’t escape her that while he had taken off his armor and extra layers, she couldn’t touch him from this position. Frustrating man.

“Rokurou.” Somehow, despite his fingers and mouth coaxing soft sounds out of her, she managed to keep her voice even this time. She needed to know this. For some reason, it was important to her.

“One night, you were sitting on a corner of the deck, staring out at the ocean.” His caresses stopped, his hands coming together over her stomach. “I don’t remember when it was. Just that, when a seagull flew past you, you made this sad little smile. And that was it.”

“That was what?” Velvet prompted. She wasn’t any closer to understanding, though with Rokurou, that was normal.

“That was when I knew that debt or no debt, I’d only leave if you told me to.” He sounded oddly proud about that. “Not that I would have before. And I’ve always admired your strength. But this was different.”

“Based on a sad smile?” Velvet couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice, though it was fond. He was ridiculous. But it was part of what she…

Loved about him? She wasn’t sure that was a feeling she was still capable of.

“I make up my mind pretty quickly about people.” He sounded, if possible, even more proud about that, and his arms tightened around her. He gave no sign if he was bothered by the sudden, serious topic. “I won’t betray you, Velvet.”

Her breath caught. He didn’t say “I love you.” But while Laphicet could say those words, and she could believe them, her heart was still so bruised that she was unlikely to believe anyone else. And he knew that, didn’t he? This almost meant more.

“I believe you,” she said, and hoped he understood.

“Good.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Now…” His arms tightened around her, his muscled arms pressing against her breasts, and the fire that had settled in her skin flared again.

Then her enhanced daemon ears picked up the sound of the inn door opening, and the pounding of boots in the lobby. Kamoana’s loud voice followed, and Laphicet’s softer one, and then enough other voices that she couldn’t identify individuals anymore. Judging by the way Rokurou stiffened, he’d heard it too.

The door was locked, to prevent anyone from barging in and getting a surprise, but Velvet also shared the room with Magilou and Eleanor. Eventually, they’d want in. And she’d rather not be put in a position to make explanations. This was no one’s business except her’s and Rokurou’s.

Whatever this was.

“Looks like we’re out of time,” Rokurou observed wryly, his arms loosening, but not letting her go just yet.

“For now,” Velvet said without thinking. She meant it, and didn’t regret it. For all of their obvious daemon parts, she felt more human with Rokurou. Or at least, more herself. She wouldn’t feel bad about being attracted to him, or enjoying his attention. Not now that she understood what she felt.

“For now,” Rokurou agreed. Then his arms fell away, and she heard the rustle of fabric as he gathered the clothes he’d removed. And as he crept out of the room, Velvet realized that she’d never gotten to touch him like she wanted.

A faint smile curved her lips. Damn. He’d left her wanting more.

And then Laphicet flew into the room, eager to tell her about the adventure in the ice fields, and she let her smile grow.

\----------

Privacy had been a difficult commodity to come by, pretty much since Velvet had escaped Titania. That was nothing new. Sleeping outside usually meant sleeping in a pile. The Van Eltia was basically the same, with the choice of sleeping in a hammock below, or on the deck above. And real privacy at an inn would have come at a price they could hardly afford, considering the cost of supplies.

All of which meant, that while so far, no one seemed aware that her relationship with Rokurou had changed, because again, it was none of their business, Velvet was starting to crack.

Her bad dreams would probably never go away completely. But they weren’t her only dreams now. And the dreams of Rokurou, often only of his hands, his glowing eye, or some other disembodied part, were distressing in their own way. For one, she still woke up panting. But more importantly, while they moved steadily closer to dealing with her revenge, she didn’t seem able to do anything about this. Private moments didn’t grow on trees, and it was starting to feel like she’d used up all of hers.

Of course, if she’d been willing to be upfront about it, she could have asked for privacy without having to explain, but some instinct made her want to keep this private. She wasn’t embarrassed of Rokurou. But picturing Magilou’s teasing, and Eizen’s questions about whether this was a distraction they could afford made her clam up. This was hers. And who knew how long she’d be allowed to enjoy it?

If ever again, at this rate. 

And while she could count on Rokurou to say nothing unless she did, from time to time, when no one else could see, the smiles he’d shoot her were more than just friendly. Velvet never knew how to react. This was all new, and there’d be no living with Magilou if she was caught with a strange expression on her face. So she’d smirk and look away, and as that hadn’t stopped Rokurou yet, she assumed it accomplished what she wanted it to.

But it was hard.

Unexpectedly, it was Rokurou who created an opening.

Nights in Yseult were always pleasant, the salty sea breeze lightening the almost oppressive heat. Whenever they found themselves there, inevitably Magilou, Eizen, and Rokurou would spend much of the night in the tavern drinking. Eleanor would take Laphicet to bed early, hoping to shield him from their antics, which was probably pointless, but Velvet understood the impulse. She wished that she didn’t have to deal with the three of them once they got going, but all of them were dangerous to themselves drunk. Rokurou had started a fight with a pengyon once, and Eizen had a tendency to stumble into the surf, muttering about the reaper’s curse. So she often spent these nights on the beach under the tavern, waiting for them to stumble back to the inn. It was an excuse not to sleep, she would have said if questioned.

“Aww, you care!” Rokurou had slurred once, weeks ago, when he’d seen her doing it. But he hadn’t mentioned it again sober, so Velvet assumed he’d forgotten about it.

Until Eizen appeared in the tavern window, and waved when he spotted her. When she gave a slight wave back but didn’t get up, Eizen made a ‘come here’ motion.

Velvet sighed. She’d never been summoned into the tavern during one of these binges before, and was almost afraid of what she would find there.

Eizen met her at the door. “Would you mind taking Rokurou back to the inn? He’s had too much to get there alone.” He pointed over his shoulder. Sure enough, Rokurou was slumped over the table, snoring.

It seemed early for him to be that drunk.

“Can’t one of you take him? You seem lucid.”

“Someone has to stop Magilou from betting away our traveling funds.” Eizen nodded toward another table, where Magilou held a hand of cards and a tankard, her mouth split in a wicked grin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

On another night, Velvet might have suggested that the Reaper’s Curse practically guaranteed Magilou’s failure. But she didn’t want to end up spending half the night watching Magilou gamble.

“Fine. Help me get him up, and I can take him the rest of the way,” Velvet agreed with a sigh.

Rokurou didn’t stir as they approached, though he grunted when Eizen hauled him up from the table. Velvet lifted his free arm, slipping it around her shoulders, and wrapping one arm around his waist. When she nodded, Eizen leaned Rokurou against her, and stepped back. Velvet sagged a little under his full weight, but when she took a tentative step forward, Rokurou stepped too. Interesting.

“Thanks, Velvet.” Eizen was already on his way to keep an eye on Magilou.

There was nothing to do except put one foot in front of the other, and hope Rokurou kept helping her. He did, though his eyes remained closed during the slow, jostling walk to the tavern door. Which Velvet kicked open, having no arms free, and kicked shut again.

It was only when they were out of view of the tavern windows that she noticed that the sound of Rokurou’s breathing wasn’t right for someone actually asleep.

“How long are you going to make me carry you?” she asked, though she didn’t let go.

Rokurou cracked an eye open. “What gave me away?” He didn’t sound drunk at all. And now that she was smelling for it, Velvet didn’t detect the usual smell of alcohol. The tavern had been full of those smells, smothering her nose. Now, in the open air, there was none.

“You were breathing too fast for someone in a drunken stupor. And passed out people don’t walk.” Not that she had much experience carrying drunks.

“Ah, the ol’ daemon hearing.” He nodded, shifting his weight so that he supported himself. But he didn’t take his arm off her shoulders. 

Some of the pieces came together. “You’re not drunk at all, are you?”

Rokurou grinned. “Nope.”

Velvet’s heart started pounding. They were alone. Eizen and Magilou would be at it for hours. Eleanor and Laphicet were asleep. And Rokurou had… what? Pretended to be passed out drunk to get out of an evening at the tavern without arousing suspicion?

She smiled. “I underestimated you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he assured her.

They were in front of the inn by then, leaving Velvet with a decision to make. But Rokurou had created this opportunity, and she’d felt like she was burning up ever since Merchio. There was really no decision to make.

“My room?” Rokurou asked, his mouth close to her ear, his hot breath tickling her rapidly sensitizing skin.

On instinct, Velvet turned to look at him, meeting his gaze. The undisguised desire she saw there almost choked her, his visible pupil slitted again, his focus intense. The cool sea air felt like a furnace under the heat of that gaze, making her blood sing. She couldn’t answer, couldn’t get any words through her suddenly tight throat. So instead, she closed the scant distance, and kissed him.

Rokurou responded immediately, letting out a startled sound, but twisting his body to get closer to her, his hands sinking into her hair. Their mouths moved in a feverish rhythm, heedless of anything else. With Rokurou this close, Velvet found that she really couldn’t think of anything else. The smell and feel of him were everywhere, stoking the fire under her skin.

Until a passing villager whistled, and Velvet remembered that they were still outside, startling her into breaking away.

“Your room sounds good,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.

There was a dazed look in Rokurou’s eye for a moment, as if he’d forgotten what he’d asked her. Then he blinked, some of the haze lifting. “Right. My room.”

The lobby was empty, as was the hallway. Velvet heard nothing except faint breathing coming from the rooms they passed, which as it turned out, was a good thing, as Rokurou fumbled with his keys for a long moment before they were safely within the room and the door locked behind them.

It was obvious which bed was Eizen’s, his coat carelessly tossed over it before setting off for a night of drinking. The other one was Rokurou’s by default, but his shoulder armor leaned on the wall next to it for good measure. 

Velvet stood by the door, suddenly unsure, while Rokurou peeled off his sandals. Glancing up, he gestured vaguely about him.

“Get comfortable,” he said, tossing his sandals next to his shoulder armor, and loosening the armor that ran along his right arm. “You have a lot of sharp, metal bits attached that I don’t want stabbing me.”

Ruefully, Velvet complied, her boots, weapons, various buckles, and coat soon joining his armor. She hadn’t thought of that, but last time her personality had been the only sharp thing about her. And Rokurou seemed able to handle that just fine.

Rokurou finished first, flopping down on his bed and patting the space beside him. Velvet joined him, nerves crawling up from her stomach again, but she was barely seated when Rokurou pulled her into his arms, his kiss as sudden as hers had been outside. This one was less hurried, desperation dulled by their earlier kiss, and the knowledge that they would have time. But it didn’t affect her any less. She might not be able to taste, but between her other senses, and Rokurou’s eager desire, it was enough. And more than she had ever expected.

Before, Rokurou had been careful where he put his hands, every touch a tentative exploration. A testing of boundaries, to see what she enjoyed, and what she tolerated. He was less careful now, his hands running up and down her spine, through her hair, along her sides, as if he was trying to map the shape of her. Where his fingers found flesh, they left trails of sparking heat behind, his sword calluses creating a sensation that Velvet couldn’t resist. How would they feel somewhere else? The thought sent a rush of arousal through her. 

Which Rokurou could smell, Velvet realized as his hands tensed on her sides. Ordinarily, her inner thoughts being so transparent would have embarrassed her. But Rokurou dropped his head to her neck, kissing a line to her collarbone and back again, his hands teasing the bare skin of her back. His breathing was ragged, and that, she found, she liked too much to be embarrassed by what had caused it.

“Do I want to know what you’re thinking about right now?” His voice was low and throaty, the words spoken against her skin. The vibration caused another spike of desire.

Velvet shivered. “You. Touching me.” She ran her hands over his shoulders as she said it, feeling his muscles move under her hands as he reacted.

Rokurou made a rough sound in the back of his throat, almost a growl. “Where?”

She hadn’t imagined specifics, but it wasn’t difficult to, either. Not when she remembered his gaze early on, drawn to her chest before she’d told him off. He’d never done it again, or if he had, she hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t the first or only man to stare, of course. But he was the only one with the decency to be embarrassed.

Ironic, for a daemon.

“Everywhere,” she admitted, thinking of hands other than her own between her legs for once. “But this will do for now.” Reaching behind her, she pulled his arms in front of her, pressing his hands onto her breasts.

Rokurou hesitated only for a moment, flexing his hands in place. Then his thumbs brushed against her nipples, and Velvet shivered again. Even through fabric, she’d been right about his sword calluses. If anything, the fabric of her top added delicious friction.

When he rubbed harder, a moan escaped her, and Rokurou’s mouth was on her’s in an instant, as if desperate to taste the sound. The kiss was hard and fast, punctuated by a pinch of her nipples before his fingers delved under her top, sensitive, overheated flesh meeting rough fingers. Velvet felt like holding on to his shoulders was the only thing keeping her grounded, the only steady point in a tide of heady desire.

She was panting when Rokurou broke away, his fingers fumbling with the catch on her top, the task apparently requiring more focused attention. Her laugh was breathless, the sound catching her by surprise.

It must have taken Rokurou by surprise too, because he looked up, his surprise quickly changing into a wry grin. “You want to help me with this?”

“Only if you get rid of some of those layers,” Velvet countered, her fingers replacing his on the clasp.

He was out of his hakama and kimono almost in less time than it took her to undo the clasp and pull her top over her head. Somehow, he was still almost completely covered, while she reclined half-naked on the bed, her nipples peaking in the sudden chill. Rokurou moved back toward her, but she put up a hand.

“Not enough,” she said, a faint grin curving her lips. “I’ve seen more than this by accident.” Meanwhile, he’d never seen her this bare before. 

Still, she expected him to object. He didn’t, hastily stripping to the waist, and as he crawled back to her on the bed, her hands came up, running down his chest, exploring the contours that she had only seen from a distance. She could feel his long years of training in every inch. He might insist that he wasn’t nearly strong enough, but then neither was she. Her revenge would have been accomplished a long time ago otherwise. 

Without thinking, Velvet traced the black marks on Rokurou’s neck, following them to his face, brushing aside his hair. His daemon eye glowed a deep red as he watched her, still under her hands. She could only remember it doing that when he was eager for a fight. But then, excitement was excitement, right? And she could feel the tension in his muscles, his strength barely leashed beneath the skin.

“Waiting for something?” she asked, letting his hair fall back into place and running her hands down his chest again.

Rokurou shook his head, the movement rigid somehow. “Trying to stay in control,” he admitted. “Hard enough when I’m touching you; nearly impossible when you’re touching me.”

Which maybe explained why he’d positioned himself so that she couldn’t, last time. As mild as he seemed most of the time, she had seen enough that she couldn’t forget the daemon lurking under the surface. Focused and lethal, willing to cut down anyone in his way. Not unlike her. But presumably killing her wasn’t what the daemon wanted now.

“Who said you had to stay in control? I certainly didn’t.” She let her hands slip lower, across the hard planes of his stomach.

Rokurou shuddered under her touch. “Velvet…”

“I mean it. You won’t break me.” After all, someone else had already done that.

He met her gaze, both eyes glowing now. “That was never in doubt.”

Velvet felt a change in the air when he made his decision, the quality of the malevolence changing around them. She expected him to pounce, his control snapping away in an instant. But instead, that intense focus she remembered came into his eyes, before her lowered his head to her breast, and began to suck. Intense as the sensation was, this new pleasure tearing little noises out of her throat, she wondered what had changed, until she felt the brush of his teeth against her nipple, and noticed that they were sharp.

“Don’t bite me there,” she said, on instinct.

Rokurou looked up, his teeth flashing in a grin as he replaced his mouth with fingers again. His touch was less gentle, though still not hard enough to be called pain. The dark slashes on his face were moving. She hadn’t known they could do that. The daemon was awake, if not yet aggressive.

“Is there somewhere you’d like me to bite you?” The naked hunger in his visible eye had her wondering if that was something she’d actually enjoy. And when she didn’t respond immediately, he ran his tongue over her nipple, his gaze still locked with hers.

“Maybe next time,” Velvet managed, her breathing going ragged as he closed his lips over the other nipple. If there was a next time. Another stolen moment before-

Rokurou’s tongue swiped against a particularly sensitive spot, and he leaned forward to cup her butt, his strong hands kneading the flesh in a surprisingly pleasurable way, driving any remaining thoughts from Velvet’s head. Heat was gathering between her legs, throbbing and insistent. Her shorts were uncomfortable against her overheated skin; she wanted them gone. 

As if sensing what she wanted, Rokurou gave each nipple a parting kiss before kissing his way down between her breasts, over her stomach, pausing at the top of her shorts. It was the perfect position, she noted absently, for putting his mouth on her.

“Your smell is driving me crazy,” he admitted, his voice lower and oddly resonant. His fingers curled over the back of her shorts.

“So do something about it.”

He had her shorts off in one swift jerk, taking the tattered remains of her tights with them, as well as the underwear underneath. Velvet had only a moment to register that she was naked in front of him before he settled back into position, kissing and nipping a trail up her thigh until he was parting her labia with his nose and tongue. She felt him inhale deeply and exhale again through his nose, the displaced air tickling the sensitive flesh and forcing a gasp out of her.

Then his tongue was moving against her in earnest, and Velvet fisted her hands in his hair, anchoring herself against the tide of pleasure. She’d expected his hand, and could very easily imagine how those callused fingers would feel now. But that hunger still burned in his eyes as he looked up at her, and there was something painfully appealing about the image of him between her legs.

Velvet felt the pressure building in her abdomen, far more intense than it was when she was alone. She couldn’t form coherent sentences anymore, only managing words like “more,” “there” and “yes,” the vowels drawn out by her moans. Until she was over the top, her body tensing as the last wave of pleasure crashed over her. She felt warm and loose-limbed, her body truly relaxed for the first time in... years?

Then Rokurou was grinning up at her, though there was a hint of a wince to it. Realizing how tightly she gripped his hair, Velvet released him abruptly, and he sat back, rubbing his scalp. His mouth was glistening: evidence of where he’d just been. As she watched, he licked his lips, the action sending a throb of desire straight into her core. He’d just gotten her off, and it wasn’t even close to enough. He still had pants on!

A key scraped in the lock, and time seemed to slow. Eizen.

There was barely time to pull a blanket over Velvet before the door opened, and Eizen stumbled in, bringing the reek of alcohol with him. Bleary eyed, he cast a cursory glance over their pile of discarded clothes and armor before kicking off his boots, and collapsing on his bed. In a few moments, Eizen was snoring.

A laugh bubbled up from Velvet’s throat, and she couldn’t hold it back, not caring if it woke Eizen up again. Rokurou joined her, and as ridiculous as the situation was, she felt lighter than she had in a long time.

“I don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon, but you should probably get going. Magilou might still be awake,” Rokurou said when their laughter subsided.

“But what about you?” It hadn’t escaped Velvet that Rokurou was still very hard. The bulge at the front of his pants was impossible not to notice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “You’ll get the next one.”

And she’d make sure that there was a next one.


End file.
